Chest heaving. His breath was ragged. Sprawled out int he wet ground, his coat slick with water. His heart was racing, eyes frantic as he looked back at the water, hoping to see her white spotted body again. But there was not a single sighting of her. She was gone.
Gone.
His heart broke, a pitiful whinny escaping, high pitched and frantic as he struggled back to his gangly legs. Worn out limbs shook to hold his weight up, unsteady, feeling as if he was a newborn all over again. He shook. The cold spring air whipped across the shoreline causing a shiver to break out over his gangly form. He whinnied again, his voice breaking as he called for his mother. But it was useless.
She was gone. Swept away by the current, her frail form wasn’t strong enough. How he’d managed to swim through the current was beyond him. But he hadn’t been beaten like she had. They’d been attacked, she’d guarded him, protecting him from the herd that decided we were no longer welcome, all of the sudden kicked out of the familial herd. His father had been the lead, his half siblings scattered around, and all the sudden they decided his mother and he were no longer welcome. Mother hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, except say no when father had demanded another foal. She knew her body had been too weak to carry another, and had stood up for herself. Father hadn’t liked that.
Lucà’s eyes shut, the pitiful whinnies still coming, at less volume and strength now, his heart breaking as he waited, hoping she’d emerge from the water, but in his soul he knew she was gone. He pawed at the wet ground, anger quickly replacing his grief. He snorted, hooves digging into the soggy earth as he jumped and landed, his snorts of anger growing. Yes, to anyone watching it would appear the young boy was throwing a temper tantrum from afar. To be fair, anyone in his position would be.
An hour or more passed, his mood ranging from anger to grief, to hungry and back all over again. He thrashed at the ground, unable to stop himself, his voice was gone, all that came from him was harsh graveled noises that were indistinguishable. Mother was gone, which meant he couldn’t nurse from her anymore, which meant all he could eat was the grass that grew here. YUCK. His nose crunched as he turned towards the grasses, knowing he had to eat. His stomach growled, rumbling uncomfortably. He could hear the babbling of water. He hoped it wasn’t water like the stuff he had pulled himself from. That wasn’t tasty water. He grabbed a mouthful of grass and began walking towards the babbling waters.
The sweet blades soothed the ache in his gut, at least momentarily. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he knew without a doubt it’d be all he had anymore. His eyes were wide as he walked, flicking back and forth in a hurried gaze, hoping to avoid conflict. Flashes of the attack on mother ran through his mind like a movie. He didn’t want to get hurt.
The water appeared before him, cascading down and crashing on the rocks below. But it turned into a babbling creek of sorts, he supposed. He stopped where he thought he could reach, his coat wet as he splayed his legs, reaching as far down as he could to drink, only short sips, before lifting his head and looking around in a panic, fear evident on his young face.